Bacchanalia
by Spouse of Orestes
Summary: “I wouldn’t have felt safe with Bacchus and all his wild girls if we’d met them without Aslan.” ...Susan from Prince Caspian. Some Narnian traditions have a dark side to them. Warning: maybe traumatizing for some, especially if you’re Edmund.
1. The Trouble with Susan

_A/N: I did some mythology research and watched the Narnia DVD again and bam! I'm on a roll with some fresh ideas that I stopped my life so I could just keep writing for days. I'm bordering on some really sensitive issues with this story but I tried to make it as tame as possible, so I hope nobody would find it offensive. If you still do, you're welcome to flame me for it. I accept criticism, both positive and negative._

_To those who have encountered me for the first time, this story follows my Lessons in Diplomacy, Queen Susan's Marriage, etc. etc. universe. You don't have to read all four, but I do recommend you read at least "The Great Galman Escape" first to fully understand this story._

_Disclaimer: I might be making C.S. Lewis turn in his grave with this. I mess up with his characters and his world in the most evil ways possible._

**Bacchanalia**

**Chapter One**

**The Trouble with Susan**

High King Peter hid his yawn with a cough and tried his best to listen to the proposal of the foreign ambassador from the Lone Islands regarding the lowering the tariff rates on the fruit imports. The talks had been going on for three days now and Peter was tired.

The trouble with times of peace is that you are forced to deal with the less exciting problems of governing a country. To Peter it meant entertaining visitors with balls and fancy dinners. It meant reading up on reports, sitting on discussion tables with foreigners for hours, listening to proposals and making decisions. It got so tedious sometimes that he almost wished somebody would attack Narnia so he could get some action in the battlefield where he was most comfortable.

Edmund and Susan were more cut out for these kinds of things. That was why Peter had them assigned primarily on external diplomatic affairs. Ever since two years ago, when Susan and Edmund had proved to be excellent negotiators, Peter had let them deal with much of the foreign concession agreements for him. But that didn't mean he need not do anything about it at all. He, as High King, was almost always at the meetings as well.

Originally, when they first stepped in as kings and queens of Narnia, they had divided the workload among themselves. Peter took over national security, which was the primary concern then. Edmund helped him with battle strategies as well as external talks among foreign dignitaries during councils of war. Susan was best in numbers and general management. Thus, she was assigned to run Cair Paravel's household as well as monitoring supplies for the entire kingdom, particularly the army. Lucy was always the closest to the people of Narnia. So naturally, she took on the job of seeing to their day to day concerns and other internal affairs.

But with no more threats of war, Peter had to ease out of his original duties and settle more on diplomatic relations with his other three siblings. In the last few years, he did get the hang of it, but there were times when it felt so trying. This last week had been one of them.

On Monday he had to deal with that annoying suitor of Susan from Terenbinthia that kept pestering him for her hand even after she said no so many times. Peter actually had to order him bodily out of Cair Paravel just to get rid of him.

Tuesday was the state dinner for the visiting King of Galma. Lycurgus dragged on and on with his boring conversation, it exhausted Peter like he had just gone from a fierce battle.

On Wednesday, he got stuck at an internal budget meeting that droned for hours and made his head swim with all the figures. It became so bad, he could hardly concentrate. Susan had to prod him several times to pay attention. When he finally moved to dismiss it at half past nine in the evening, Susan got mad at him for stopping it too early when they had more to discuss. They ended up having a 20-minute screaming match outside the throne room. She won the argument though, so on Thursday, he was forced to sit through another long session. He figured Susan made the figure presentations even longer just to get back at him. The result was that he wasn't able to do his regular armoury practice routine. It was the one activity he was looking forward to all week and he had lost his chance. When the meeting finally adjourned late at night, Peter started another fight with Susan and it ended with them glaring and slamming their bedchamber doors at each other.

Lucy was the angel that forced them to make up the next morning at breakfast. She reminded them that they had to cooperate as a team for the trade negotiation talks with the Lone Islands ambassadors. It was rather fortunate that she did. The talk with the visiting ambassadors proved to be tricky that Peter was glad Susan was back on his side, although he still harbored some ill feelings towards her.

The negotiations went on for the rest of the weekend. It was now late Sunday afternoon. The Ceresian Festival was starting early tomorrow and still the negotiations hadn't come to a close. Peter was about to move to suspend the negotiations but Edmund beat him to it. Susan made no argument. It was after all she, who had to preside on the activities beginning early tomorrow.

"You're invited to stay for the Ceresian Festival, of course," said Edmund to the ambassadors. He had the talks moved to resume after a week.

The ambassadors thanked them but said that they also had a pressing matter to discuss with King Lune in Archenland. They promised to return after a week. They took their leave and Susan and Lucy saw them to the door.

"The week's been hell," Edmund said. He, Peter and Mr. Tumnus were the only ones that remained around the table in the discussion room. "Thank Aslan the Ceresian's tomorrow, gives us a break at least."

Peter dropped his forehead on the table. Oh yes the seven-day Ceresian Festival. It was a nice long holiday. Unfortunately it was the one festival where Susan took the lead. He wasn't jealous, but Susan did tend to be over-enthusiastic about it.

"Knowing Susan, she'll be having us running up and about the whole of Narnia all week with the harvest," Peter complained. "And she'll insist I lead every single dance every afternoon. What I really need is a break from her."

"She's not that bad," said Edmund. "You're still at her for last Thursday?"

"Oh come on Ed, admit it. Half my stress this week came from her."

"She can't help it, you know and she does mean well. The Ceresian is part of her duties and she just wants us all to get into it."

"Well she tends to overdo it. I love the Ceresian, I do, but it gets pretty monotonous after six years and Susan insisting I go on to it with same enthusiasm as the last five is starting to get to me," Peter raised his head from the table and shook it. I just wish for once, even for one day, I could enjoy it without her. Do something a bit different. I want to have a little bit of adventure."

"If I may interrupt," said Mr. Tumnus. Edmund and Peter turned to him. "I think I may be able to help."

"What do you have in mind, Mr. Tumnus?" asked Edmund.

The faun gave them a conspiratorial smile. "I think it's about time you take part in a certain festival that occurs in Narnia during the summer harvest."

* * *

Edmund knocked softly on Peter's bedroom door. His brother gently opened it.

"Ready?" Edmund asked and Peter nodded. They crept through the hallway together and made their way towards the stables where Philip and Peter's unicorn, Aglaia were waiting for them.

"Tumnus left you those," said Philip as he pointed his snout towards a pair of faun skins hanging by a nail on a post.

Edmund nodded. When Mr. Tumnus told him and Peter about the Bacchanalia last week, they both gamely agreed to go on the last day of the Ceresian Festival—also the last night of the Bacchanalia. Peter had insisted he wanted no one to recognize them as kings even among the nymphs and fauns. He planned to fully enjoy himself tonight without any of the responsibilities attached to his crown. Thus, they concocted a plan with Mr. Tumnus to disguise themselves as fauns.

The two kings hurriedly undressed and got into their new costumes for the night. They were about to get on their horses when Edmund noticed a figure standing at the entrance of the stables in her dressing gown and slippers.

"Where are you going?"

Edmund's heart sank. This was what they feared the most. Susan had found out.

"What are you doing here, Su?" Peter asked irritably.

"I saw you creep outside from my bedroom window," she said. "Where are you off to?" She approached them and noticed their rather odd clothing. "And what are you two wearing?"

"None of your business," said Peter.

Susan continued to eye their goat-like trousers. "You're going off into the night dances with Mr. Tumnus, aren't you?"

Edmund gave a defeated sigh. The secret was out.

Susan laughed. She didn't sound angry but rather amused. "Really the faun look doesn't suit you, but I suppose you must, if you want to be discreet when you get there."

"What do you know about it?" asked Edmund.

"Oh the Bacchanalia?" she said. "Not much. I've no idea really. It's just that one of my nymph maids happened to mention it to me. She said it was just about dancing with the fauns and we all know they do that after dusk during the Ceresian. Well, I suppose we'll find out tonight."

"We?" asked Edmund skeptically.

"Well of course, I'm going with you," said Susan. "Just give me a minute to run back up and put on something else."

"No, you can't," said Peter firmly.

"And why not?" she asked. Her voice had hitched higher as she reacted to Peter's opposition.

"Well…" Peter began but stopped. Mr. Tumnus had warned them specifically not to bring Susan and Lucy or even tell them anything about the Bacchanalia. He said something about too much drinking involved, but Edmund suspected there was something else that Mr. Tumnus left out. Edmund had an idea and he thought it might not exactly be appropriate for girls to come along.

"It's not going to interest you," said Peter finally.

"And how would you know that?" she challenged. "Have you ever been to one?"

Peter ignored the question. "You're not invited."

"And since when do you need to have an invitation to go to a Narnian festival? I'm the Queen. If I want to go, I'll go."

"Well then I forbid you to go!" said Peter.

Susan's eyes flashed angrily. "You? Forbid me to go!"

Peter met her heated gaze with his own. "Yes, as High King, I can do that!"

"You're not the boss of me, Peter Pevensie!" she shouted.

"Well in Narnia, I am!"

"I thought you promised me you'll trust me. Two years ago when I got rid of Minax, you said you'll treat me equally!" cried Susan. She looked to Edmund for support.

Edmund thought she did have a point and that Peter was wrong to be pulling rank now. But he too didn't want to let Susan come with them so he said nothing in her defense.

"That was different," retorted Peter. "I meant equally when it came to affairs of the state and responsibility of governing. It has nothing to do with this. So go back to bed and leave us alone!"

"No, I won't. I have as much right as you to come!" she insisted.

"Fine then!" said Peter. "Either you go back up to your room on your own, or I'll order Oreius to lock you up in there all night!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Susan cried desperately. Edmund knew she had lost the argument. Peter would no doubt do that if he was forced. He was just that desperate to get away from her. The entire week of the Ceresian went on as Peter predicted. Although they didn't exactly fight, Edmund knew Susan had hit a few nerves with Peter with her constant encouragement to all of them to always lead the dances and the threshing. Peter usually complied, but he was stressed out the week before and didn't have much energy for it. Edmund knew his older brother hated being nagged and was just eager to get back at her now that her festival was over.

"I can call him right now. What's it going to be?" he hissed menacingly.

Susan huffed angrily then marched away. Edmund watched her go, feeling a bit sorry. He could sense that Peter did too. But there was nothing they could do and their curiosity on the Bacchanalia won them over. They got on their horses and were soon off trotting.

When they arrived at the woods near Dancing Lawn they parted ways with Philip and Aglaia.

"Are you sure you don't want to come Philip?" asked Edmund.

"Oh no. The Bacchanalia's no fun for horses. Not enough grass in Dancing Lawn, too trampled. We're best off to a feast of our own. Aglaia and I will come back for you at sunrise here."

"Thanks Philip," said Edmund. Peter rubbed his unicorn affectionately. Aglaia was not a talking beast but she understood the High King's instructions nevertheless and was soon galloping away with Philip to some more grassy area to rest for the night.

The two kings walked through the woods until they reached a large clearing. Mr. Tumnus was there to greet them and offered them garlands of leaves and flowers to wear in their heads.

"Good that you're finally here," he said. "It just us fauns still. But company will arrive soon."

Music was already playing and Mr. Tumnus invited them both for a dance. Peter and Edmund immediately joined the circle of fauns. Edmund felt himself relax. Their earlier encounter with Susan was soon forgotten with such jolly companions. It felt wonderful to have a holiday and he was glad he had come. He felt freshly renewed and he felt he had so much more energy in him.

When their round finished, he sat down under a tree beside Peter and Mr. Tumnus and someone passed him a goblet of wine. Edmund inhaled cautiously at the drink. Ever since the incident with the White Witch, he had gained a habit of distrusting any food or drink given to him by just about anyone. He often told himself he was being ridiculous as no one among his subjects would try to poison him, but he still did it anyway. He noticed that all the other fauns and even his brother were gulping their own goblets down without hesitation. It convinced him to sip a little and he found it was just the regular wine that they usually had.

There was a pleasant sound of female laughter that tinkled like bells.

"Ahh, here come the nymphs!" cried Mr. Tumnus.

Edmund looked up and saw dozens of nymphs enter the clearing from the shelter of the trees. In the moonlight, their clear skin shone like alabaster and their long hair decorated with summer flowers flowed like silk. They began to move in a sensual dance and Edmund found himself staring in fascination. He was used to seeing nymphs but they appeared so much different to him now. It was like they had a power they had never revealed to him before. They made him want to jump up and touch them, yet at the same time he was afraid to do so. He suddenly realized why Mr. Tumnus had warned them not to bring Lucy and Susan. He felt that just watching the nymphs like this with his sisters around would make him very uncomfortable.

Finally the music ended and the nymphs stopped dancing. Edmund wanted to complain to whoever was playing the music to keep playing, for he never wanted the nymphs to stop. He realized his mouth was dry and he took a gulp of wine. He noticed Peter was also gulping down his drink as if he had just crossed the Calormen desert.

Mr. Tumnus offered them a refill from a pitcher. Peter gladly accepted and had his goblet filled to the brim. Edmund saw no need to refill his own goblet and declined the offer. He was curious, however, and a bit amused to see his brother down his newly refilled goblet like his life depended on it. It became apparent to Edmund a moment later why Peter did. Several nymphs had approached them. And with tender gazes and seductive pouts, those enticing creatures invited them to join them in another round of dancing. Mr. Tumnus didn't hesitate and was immediately off in the arms of a doe-eyed nymph. Peter, flushed partly from wine, partly from his own shyness, hesitated, but only for a moment. Edmund figured the wine must have kicked in some sense of boldness in him and the High King was soon up and about frolicking in the heels of a nymph whose dress flowed like water against her shimmering skin.

Edmund found himself facing a pale nymph in a dress of bark. She offered a soft hand to him but Edmund could do nothing but blush and stare at her for a long moment. When he finally came to his senses, however, she had been dragged away by another faun.

He looked around and realized he was alone sitting on the grass. Everyone seemed to have joined in the dance that was now even gayer than before. Edmund regretted hesitating for so long and losing his chance. But he could do nothing except sit and watch in envy as his brother and the rest of fauns danced and occasionally received kisses and looks and touches from the nymphs that promised so much more delights.

There was a slight movement to his right and he turned and met a pair of almond-shaped amber-coloured-eyes, a perfectly curved nose, soft cheeks, and pale yellowish lips. It was a pleasant face all framed by glorious dark green hair that flowed down to her breast and met her dress of leaves. Her garment appeared to be the same colour and texture as her hair that he couldn't tell where the latter ended and the former began. She smelled of apples mixed with a hint of citrus from the orange blossoms that adorned her entire body.

"May I join you, good Sir?" her voice had a soothing quality to it that he found very refreshing.

Edmund nodded silently. There was something about her that intrigued him so.

"You do not care to dance?" she asked.

He didn't know what to reply. Yes, he did care to dance but he didn't want to leave her side either. It didn't occur to him that he could do both if he asked her to dance with him.

"First time you have attended a Bacchanalia, Your Majesty?"

Edmund was startled. "You know who I am?"

"You are my king," she replied.

Edmund managed a smile. "I suppose the disguise doesn't fool anyone."

"Oh no, it does. In the moonlight it is easy to manage the disguise. It's just that I know because I've seen you before. I've watched you ride into the edge of the Western Woods in Lantern Waste where I live," she admitted without shyness. Edmund found it rather endearing that she could speak so honestly and directly. "I've wondered… and I've longed to make your acquaintance your highness," she added.

"Well then I'm very pleased to meet you…"

"I am called Semele, Your Highness. I am a tree nymph or rightfully, a Maliade, for my tree is the apple."

"Please, call me Edmund. Let us be friends," he offered her his hand to shake.

Semele looked a bit confused at the offered hand and Edmund realized she didn't understand—as most Narnians do—the concept of handshaking. Nevertheless, she seemed to catch on the friendly gesture and placed her warm soft hand on his and smiled up at him. "Alright… Edmund."

The young king flushed at how she said his name and he wanted to hear her say it again. But just then the dance ended and the fauns returned to their seats, this time with the nymphs linked at their arms. A lot of them were roaring with laughter at some private joke or other that Edmund was temporarily distracted. He noticed Peter return to his seat with a water nymph by his side. He retrieved his freshly refilled goblet (Edmund lost track of how many times his brother had a refill), and gulped it down. Peter's newly found friend whispered something in his ear and the High King promptly plunged his face into her neck in an obvious move to kiss a spot there while she treaded her glistening aqua-blue fingers in his hair.

The music struck for the fourth time heralding another dance. However, very few joined in the circle. Several fauns and nymphs began moving to shadowy corners behind the trees. Edmund had a vague idea why and he felt his cheeks redden.

"You are worried," said Semele to him. "You have not gotten into the spirit of the Bacchanalia?"

"What exactly is the spirit of this feast?"

"Carefree-ness," she responded. "You must let yourself go to enjoy fully the pleasures of life."

"Oh but never entirely," argued Edmund, thinking about a time in his past when he let his guard down and thought only of the delight of a particular sweet that almost cost him his family. "We must be responsible."

"Not all the time," said Semele. "It is good to think so, but one must find a balance. It is the way towards a healthy life. One must at times cast away burdens."

Edmund gave a little laugh. "You are talking to the wrong king. Peter's the serious one. I think he needs to be careless more than I do."

"And I think he has no trouble doing that at the moment." Semele swiveled her head towards Peter's direction and Edmund followed her gaze. He was rather startled to see Peter lip-locked with the Naiad. Edmund suddenly admired his brother for his ability to go on about it for a long time without coming up for air. _Considering she's a water nymph, shouldn't he be drowning by now?_

When Peter did finally surface, it was only to swallow another half-cup of wine. He was soon back for round two with the nymph.

Edmund suddenly felt conscious around Semele. _Does she expect me to kiss her like that too? _He thought nervously. He had never kissed a female—human or otherwise—in his life. Back in that other world he was far too young to think of it. When he got older, it just never occurred to him to do that since the opportunity never seemed to present itself.

Suddenly, there was the sound of cymbals and pipes and beat of an instrument Edmund hadn't heard of before. Then came shouting: "Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi!"

The dancing abruptly stopped and most of the fauns and nymphs lounging in the grass looked up from their seats, joy a-lighting their faces. They echoed the cry: "Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi!"

It went on for several times until the origin of the noise made itself known when it appeared into the clearing. There was a boy but his features looked too pretty to be male. He was wearing a faun skin and wreaths of leaves and flowers in his hair. He carried an instrument with him that was making that continuous fierce beat. Behind him was a fat old man on a donkey who was completely drunk. He kept shouting: "Refreshments! Refreshments!" But what followed these two where what captured Edmund's attention: Women—well at least he thought they were women. They looked human enough. Their arms were bare and they wore short skirts that showed their legs that seemed to have met too much sun. Their untamed hair flew in all directions as they marched—or rather danced—in a frenzied manner as if they didn't know where they were going. Yet they seemed to follow the youthful boy in a procession. Suddenly, most of the nymphs jumped away from the fauns. They came running up behind the women and were welcomed as part of their party. Even Peter's nymph had come too.

Edmund saw that Semele was among the few that didn't join them.

"They're the Maenads," responded Semele to his unasked questions. "They're followers of Bacchus. He's that youth leading. The one behind him on the donkey is Silenus."

Edmund had an idea who Bacchus and Silenus were from the stories Lucy told him that Mr. Tumnus related to her. "You're not joining them?" Edmund asked, silently praying that she wouldn't.

"No, most of us tree nymphs don't. We don't get drunk easily, see? We are too used to the taste of grapes since some of their vines usually crawl up our trees. Not like the Naiads, the water nymphs. They're the ones that usually join the Maenads."

"What are the Maenads anyway?" asked Edmund curiously. "Are they human?"

"No, no Maenad is human. They give that up when they follow Bacchus permanently so they could travel with him to other worlds whenever his festival is celebrated. But most of them used to be. Some are former nymphs."

"You never thought of being one?"

She shook her head. "Oh no, I am happy here in Narnia and I do not wish to live forever like them. The lifetime of my tree is good enough. And Bacchus will not accept me even if I wanted to join him. It is hard for me to get drunk. That is a prerequisite."

"What about these nymphs that join him now?" asked Edmund. He noticed there were quite a lot of them and he was worried the nymph population in Narnia might decline at alarming rates if this went on every year.

"Oh they won't be Maenads forever. Just for the night. Bacchus chooses which ones will be his permanent Maenads among the nymphs and he only chooses one every few hundred years. You have to be quite special to be picked."

"I think you're quite special," Edmund blurted without thinking. He felt a bit embarrassed for being blunt but Semele's face lighted up so much with the compliment that he was glad he did say it.

Edmund was startled when he felt something touch his head and he whipped around in alarm and saw vines creeping near his hair. He noticed that all around Dancing Lawn wild vines had appeared in abundance, covering the trees. They began growing in the ground and climbing up the fauns' and nymphs' legs. Edmund grew alarmed when a vine appeared near his feet and he jumped away.

"It's alright," laughed Semele. She let a pair of vines enclose her legs. They reached up to her mid-thigh and she giggled. "They don't hurt. Just tickle them when you want them to move away."

"Excuse me? Tickle them?" asked Edmund, bewildered.

Semele reached down to her left leg and gently rubbed at the end of the vine with her finger. Immediately, the vine retracted. She didn't touch the vine on her other leg and it quickly sprouted a small bunch of grapes. She picked the entire bunch then tickled the vine so she could get free. She offered a single grape to Edmund.

"Is it safe?" he asked as he glanced at the Maenads who were by now picking and eating the grapes that had now grown in abundance from the vines.

"Of course, it's safe," she assured him. She popped one in her mouth and chewed with such a delightful expression in her face that Edmund was immediately convinced it could never be harmful. "It is the wine you should watch out for," she continued.

"Wine?" But before she could answer back, Edmund saw from the corner of his eye streams of red liquid appear from the large rocks that bordered the clearing where there were no trees. It pooled into one area and formed a sort of fountain. Immediately, Bacchus led the Maenads, the nymphs that joined them and some of the fauns into filling their goblets from the new spring.

"It's a lot stronger than ordinary wine," explained Semele. "It tastes better, but you don't want to have too much."

She didn't have to explain why. Immediately, the fauns who had their fill from Bacchus' wine, appeared more flushed. They laughed more boisterously than before and danced with wilder abandon. Edmund resolved not to touch a drop of it.

He accepted the grape Semele offered and bit into it. It was the best piece of fruit he had ever tasted. Semele was ready to offer him a second piece but he didn't take it from her hand. Boldly, he decided to just open his mouth and let her feed him. She took the hint and did just that. He tingled at the touch of her fingertips on his lips.

He wanted to continue doing that but somebody bumped hard into his back and he almost fell to the ground. Semele managed to move away behind a tree in time. Edmund grabbed whoever it was that collided on him and found Peter—or somebody very drunk that looked liked him. Edmund almost couldn't tell. His hair was a tangled mess and his faun skin was ripped in several places. He was red all over and he had a stupid grin that Edmund had never seen on his face before.

Edmund gave him an arm for support for the older king couldn't seem stand straight anymore.

"Ed, she's beautiful," Peter murmured.

Edmund glanced at Semele who moved in front of them. "I know," he whispered back though he made sure the nymph could hear him.

Peter twirled his index finger around. "Not her," he said. "That one," he pointed behind Semele to the group of Maenads in the middle of the clearing who started dancing again.

Edmund shook his head. "No, you don't want those," he said patronizingly before he shared a laugh with Semele. "I don't think you can handle them." He sat Peter down with his back to a tree trunk. Edmund wondered if Peter had been intoxicated with just the plain wine or the one Bacchus just made flow. He hoped it was just the former.

"Can you get her… she… come and join me, Ed?" slurred Peter.

"I don't think so, I think she's quite busy, whoever she is." He glanced back at the dancing Maenads and realized he couldn't turn away. Their wild dance seemed to mesmerize him even more than the nymphs' dance a while ago. There was something savage about the way they moved that was so terribly attractive. It made him want to join them, take one of them in his arms and claim her for his own for—whatever, he didn't exactly know what.

Peter appeared to be affected the same way for he had stood up on his own and was staggering towards the group of dancers. But before he could come near them, three fauns had gotten there first and attempted to grab some of the Maenads. The frenzied women, however suddenly turned upon them and pushed them away with such violent force that Edmund was taken aback. He immediately recovered as if he just woke from a dream and instinctively pulled Peter back to the tree.

"Maenads are like that," Semele said calmly. "They don't want to be touched by anyone male except Bacchus and Silenus."

"And if the males insist?" asked Edmund.

"They kill them."

Edmund stared at her in horror.

"Don't worry, fauns know that, even if they're drunk. No one makes more than one attempt. After someone gets pushed back, it sends a jolt on anyone else who wants to try to touch them. No one has ever been killed during a Bacchanalia, at least from the time I've lived, which is at least 400 years."

Edmund somehow didn't find that reassuring. The idea that these creatures come every year while his subjects were drunk made them somehow even more dangerous. It was the vulnerability of the fauns that made Edmund afraid for them.

He stared back at the dancing Maenads but this time their mesmerizing power over him was gone. He could now watch them with a clear head. They were still attractive but he no longer have the urge to grab. The image of being brutally shoved left a clear imprint on his mind.

Edmund noticed one of them. She seemed to move differently from the others. She had more grace in the way her arms moved and her body arched in time to the music. Her dress was short and torn in a few places to reveal more skin like everyone else but it looked fresher and not so worn. And her hair—it was gloriously long and shone like spun silk in the moonlight. Despite its disarray, her hair had that quality that it was well-maintained, like it had been washed and brushed constantly before this night unlike the other Maenads who seemed to just let their hair grow without ever brushing them. Edmund squinted forward to try to look at her face but due to the shadows and the distance, he couldn't discern it.

"Who is that?" asked Semele.

"You don't know her?"

"I don't think I've seen her before. I've seen all the Maenads and I know all the nymphs. She might be a new ocean nymph. Some new ones come in once in a while. But how strange her skin looks different."

Edmund had to agree. She didn't look in anyway like a nymph. She looked human. He watched her for a long time. There was something strangely familiar about the way she moved.

Semele stopped a nearby nymph to inquire about the strange Maenad then turned to Edmund.

"My sister tells me her name is Daphne," related Semele. "She came with the Naiads from the river. I thought I had known all of them."

The music grew to a faster beat and the dance became even wilder. The Maenad called Daphne stood above the others and led the dancers as if she ruled them. Edmund noticed that all eyes were now on her, as if she was the only one dancing. For some strange reason, Edmund resented all the stares everyone gave her. He wanted her to stop dancing so they wouldn't look anymore.

The music abruptly ended and the Maenads finished in a circular formation. Daphne stood superior in the middle of them. Bacchus approached her carrying a goblet of wine. She made no bow to him like the other Maenads. She continued to stand in his presence like his equal. The wine god didn't seem to take offense in this. Bacchus lovingly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand but she seemed to be stiff to his touch. He offered her his cup and she drained it. He took her hand and led her away from the rest of the dancers.

"He has chosen her as a permanent Maenad," said Semele with innocent fascination.

"What happens then?" asked Edmund.

"She is his forever once he consummates with her tonight."

Edmund shuddered. He didn't know why, but suddenly he took off towards Bacchus and his new Maenad. They had left the clearing and were headed towards a darker section of the woods. The Maenad kept drinking from the goblet which didn't seem to empty despite how much she drank from it.

It was still too dark to see anything but their figures, but finally a sliver of moonlight managed to come through the shelter of trees. It struck at the Maenad only for a moment, but in that span of time Edmund was able to see her face clearly.

His felt like his heart stopped beating altogether.

It was Susan.

_A/N:_ _Here's another lesson in mythology. There are various kinds of nymphs. Dryads are wood or forest nymphs while Naiads are fresh water nymphs. However, I did find a reference to a Maliade which is a nymph specifically of fruit trees. _

_Regarding Maenads, also known as Bacchantes or the wild girls that follow Bacchus, I'm not sure whether they are human. It doesn't say in any of the articles and books I've checked. They could be nymphs themselves. However, there was a story about human women who joined the Maenads when they got drunk and displayed the same violent traits as Maenads and eventually killed a man (Pentheus). I took the liberty of filling in that gap in the nature of the Maenad and came up with the idea that Maenads could originally be either nymph or human. However, once they join Bacchus permanently they become neither. Instead, they become an immortal being on their own. Hope it wasn't too confusing._


	2. Apollo and Daphne

**Chapter Two**

**Apollo and Daphne**

It could have been hours or merely seconds, Edmund couldn't tell which, before he could recover from his shock. When he did, he quickly sprang forward and grabbed Bacchus away from his sister and dragged him several feet towards an area of the woods illuminated by moonlight.

If the youthful god was startled at this interruption, he didn't appear to show it. Edmund figured he was just too used to be being drunk, nothing unexpected surprised him anymore.

"What is your wish, young faun?"

Edmund was startled at how even his voice sounded and his facial expression remained as jolly as before. He let go of him and stepped back. "You can't have her!"

"And why not?" It should have been a threat but Bacchus only seemed to be amused with him like he was a child speaking nonsense. "She is a free daughter of nature and I have offered her to be among my consorts. Go run on, young one and find yourself another nymph of your own."

"I am no faun!" declared Edmund. "I'm Edmund, the king of Narnia and she is no nymph either. She's my sister Susan, the Queen. I don't care if you're a god! Aslan crowed her himself and I don't think he'd appreciated it if he found out you were trying to seduce her." Edmund felt he really needed to make his argument clear, though he wasn't sure any form of reasoning at all could get across Bacchus.

Bacchus's brows twitched slightly. It was the only hint that he was concerned at all about this. He stared at Edmund and seemed to recognize him. "My apologies, I didn't realize," he said though Edmund felt he wasn't sorry at all. Nothing seems to bother him.

"What a pity. She is a fine one," continued Bacchus. "She has such spirit… ah well perhaps I'll find another in a few centuries." A goblet appeared in his hand out of thin air and he drank deeply from it. Edmund decided to leave him with his wine and he back tracked to find his sister. But when he turned back to the place where he left her, she was no longer there.

"Su?" he called out. "Where are you? It's time to go home!"

There was no answer, but a moment later there was a sound of light footsteps cracking under dried leaves. Edmund turned to find Bacchus behind him, goblet still in hand and looking as merry as ever.

"I realized something," he said airily. "If she is the Queen, then she is human."

"Of course, she's human," said Edmund. "All four of us are."

"Ahhh, then a fit warning to you my dear sir: I think you should stay away from her tonight."

Edmund eyed him warily. "Why's that?"

Bacchus made a silly little hand gesture as if he was a child playing with an invisible cord around his fingers and he was grinning madly. "Well I never really had much of a problem with this before… you see you're the first humans in Narnia to ever attend my feast… but in other worlds of course… there are complications…"

"What complications?"

"It's no trouble with the nymphs, oh no," he continued as if he hadn't heard Edmund. "They can go as fierce as they can but since there are no such things as male nymphs, it was never really a problem."

Edmund understood nothing of what Bacchus said, but he sensed it was important. "And so?"

"Ahhh you see… humans are different. There are male… and female… Maenads for the night attract beings of their own kind… but of opposite sex…"

"What are you saying?" Edmund asked as dread crept in him. "You mean she attracts men?"

"Oh, they can't help it…" said Bacchus jovially. "Dear souls especially if they drank too much of my wine. But I hope the poor fellows have the sense to keep their distance if they prefer to keep their limbs intact and wake to see another sunrise…"

Edmund's blood suddenly ran cold. "My brother, the High King is out there!" Edmund shouted at the drunk god. "If she finds him…"

Bacchus' smile grew smaller. Edmund realized that that was as close as he could get to a worried expression. "Well… er… perhaps we should find him then… before she does." He made a move to go forward but he was too sluggish and he stumbled down into the ground.

Edmund glared at him. Bacchus would only deter him if he tagged along and time was running.

"Never mind helping!" Edmund said angrily. "I'll look for them myself. But you better hope that I do before something bad happens to them. If I don't, don't count on having any nymphs attending your festival again."

Bacchus gave a hiccup then laughed. "You can't ban my festival."

"No, I can't but I can order the nymphs not to attend!"

Edmund was rather surprised that Bacchus' smile disappeared completely. He knew immediately that the threat hit home. He didn't stay to gloat, however. He dashed back to the clearing and headed towards the tree where he had left his brother. He wasn't there anymore, neither was Semele. He thought of the nymph and was sorry for having abandoned her, but he quickly put that minor worry out of his head for later. Something more urgent needed to be done. He had to find his brother before his sister did. Who knows what she might do if she did find him first.

The Maenads had by now dispersed from the clearing and had gone on dancing into the woods. A few fauns and nymphs had gone back to dancing, but neither Peter nor Susan was among them. Edmund caught sight of a furry leg disappearing behind a tree and rushed on to it. Unfortunately, that leg didn't belong to Peter but to a faun who was quite busy with a nymph. Edmund quickly left them alone, but he had no time to be ashamed at what he just witnessed. He gritted his teeth then began seeking for Peter and Susan frantically among the more dim areas of Dancing Lawn.

Several bushes and three blush shades darker later, Edmund was already desperate. His search earned him quite a bit more information about faun-nymph mating rituals than he wanted to know but he was no closer to finding his siblings. On top of all that, his imagination was getting creative in a very bad way. He wondered what exactly would he see when he did find them together. He didn't know which picture would be worse: seeing his brother being violently killed by his deranged sister or finding them engaged in an altogether more 'affectionate' activity.

He returned to the clearing and blindly took to the northwestern section of the woods. It was here that Dancing Lawn opened to fields and then ended with the waters of the Great River that flowed northwards towards the Fords of Beruna and eventually gushed out to the sea near Cair Paravel. The fields were bare as the plants have just been harvested. When he passed the shelter of the trees, he could see the entire stretch of wide-open fields bordered by the riverbank.

In a distance he could see two figures. One was twirling gracefully in the moonlight with her long tendrils of hair flying as if inviting anyone to come and touch those magnificent strands. The other in his ripped faun skin tried to half-run after the first figure. However, his unsteady gait kept him from fully capturing her in his eager arms. They went on as if in a futile chase; she enticing him to come closer, he unable to reach her by barely a hair's breadth.

Edmund ran the length of the fields as fast as he could. He could feel his ragged breath desperately begging for rest and his legs aching but he knew he just had to go on He had to reach them in time!

But finally, she was cornered by the riverbank and she could run no further. Edmund watched in horror as her triumphant lover leaped forward, enveloped her in an amorous embrace and buried his face in her hair. Edmund felt ill for only a split-second. For in the next instant, the reluctant maiden had attempted to push her captor away. In their struggle, both lost their balance and they tumbled into the river.

"NO!" Edmund cried as he rushed into the river's edge. The Great River was an unforgiving force that could send you rushing for miles into the coarse rocks that bordered the Fords of Beruna in minutes. Edmund could just imagine fishing out what was left of his siblings when the current carried their broken body parts and deposited them on the beaches of Cair Paravel. His terror intensified when he saw the waters of the river. It was red! Bloody red!

Edmund ran forward to the bank just as two figures emerged from the water a short distance away. He jumped in and was surprised that the cold red water was only waist deep when it should have been up to his neck, or perhaps even above his head. He realized that in the summer, the river's water level was lower and that there were some parts that were shallow. Luckily, this appeared to be one of them. The current also seemed so much slower and he noticed the water emitted a strangely sweet smell. It was wine! The water had turned into Bacchus' wine!

His siblings however were far from being out of danger. They were still struggling together in the wine with Peter attempting to kiss Susan, and Susan resisting. She managed to scratch Peter viciously across the chest and he backed away slightly. It gave her the advantage and she grabbed Peter by the back of the neck and pushed him headlong into the river of wine.

_Oh no, she's going to drown him!_

Edmund sprang into action and grabbed Susan from behind with both arms. She turned to him and began struggling madly, shrieking and flaying her legs around but he held to her tight and managed to carry her back to the river bank. However, Peter had also managed to get out of the river and turned his jealous eyes on Edmund.

"She's mine!" he shouted as he swung his fist at his younger brother.

Edmund had to let Susan go to avoid the assault and she scampered away. But Peter grabbed her left arm near her elbow and yanked her back to him. She in turn clawed him again across the chest.

"Stop it!" cried Edmund as he grabbed Peter by the back and dragged him away from her.

"She's mine, I tell you! My nymph! I saw her first!"

"I'm sure you did!" Edmund shouted back. "On the day she was born, you idiot!"

Peter tried to swing again at Edmund, but his hazy brain made his aim bad. Edmund saw that Susan was headed their way for another assault. Her eyes were blazing with a fury that was almost inhuman. Edmund realized he couldn't handle both of his siblings like this.

"Sorry Peter, but this is for your own good!" He gave his brother a solid punch on the left side of his face that knocked him unconscious.

Edmund then turned to Susan. He grabbed her, tossed her over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could towards the trees. She managed to hit with her fists and claw him a few times, but he was stronger and was finally able to tie her up with vines to a nearby cypress tree. He returned for his unconscious older brother and carried him back to the edge of the woods. Edmund tied him to a laurel a short distance from Susan.

When he was done, Edmund lay panting with exhaustion on grass. He could still hear Susan whimpering softly from her binds but she was starting to quiet down. Edmund figured she would fall asleep soon.

He heard a rustle of leaves and he looked up in alarm. There was a cluster of flying leaves. They finally formed together into a familiar figure.

"Semele!" he gasped in relief.

"Edmund! What happened?" she asked with deep concern. "You disappeared so suddenly, I was worried."

"Siblings…" he panted. "At each other… had to get them away…"

She noticed Peter and Susan and nodded that she understood. She knelt next to him. "Come, you are hurt. I think I may know someone to tend your wounds."

Semele helped him up and led him back to the clearing and one of her sister nymphs cleaned his wounds. While, he was attended to, a faun came by with word from Bacchus. The wine god sent his apologies and grateful thanks for saving the High King He offered assistance in any way to make up. Edmund chalked this up in his mind. He never knew when a favour from Bacchus might come in handy someday.

When his scratches and bruises were dressed, he settled down to rest on the grass and watched the stars in the sky. It was quiet now as the dances were over and the nymphs and fauns were busy with other things elsewhere. Edmund figured it would be dawn in a few hours.

"I supposed the Bacchanalia is a bit too much for humans," said Semele. She lay next to him and was also staring up at the sky.

"Yes, I think so," said Edmund. "I don't think I'll ever come to one again after this. It's too nerve-racking."

"How unfortunate," said Semele who sounded really disappointed. "The Bacchanalia is not meant to be so. I wished circumstances were different for you. I would have shown you how wonderful it could be."

Edmund smiled wistfully as he watched his favorite constellation, the Ship, though his mind was far from adventures at the moment. He had other ideas closer to home. "Maybe you still can," he whispered gallantly before turning sideways to look at her. She turned the same time as he did.

He closed his eyes and felt her lips touch his.

* * *

Peter woke up with a splitting headache. He saw that first rays of dawn had just appeared from the east. He made a move to touch his head and was surprised that he couldn't move his arm. In fact he couldn't move any part of his body from shoulder to stomach. He opened his eyes wide and found he was tied to a tree with vines. Peter suddenly grew alarmed and he tried to recall why he was there, but he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't remember anything of what happened last night except for dancing with a nymph and kissing her. There was a hazy memory of him chasing what he knew was a beautiful woman but he couldn't seem to recall her face. He quickly dismissed the image as he thought of the present situation.

He noticed that the faun skin he put on last night was torn in several places and he felt sticky all over. He could feel several aches in his body that he could not remember where he got. One side of his face was particularly throbbing.

_Where am I and why am I all tied up? _He glanced around and he could see the riverbank a few meters away. At least he knew he was still in Narnia. The body of water had to be the Great River near Dancing Lawn. _Were we attacked last night? If so, by whom? And where is Edmund?_

There was an agonized moan near him and he recognized it immediately. "Su?" he called.

"Peter, is that you? Where are you?" she cried desperately.

"I'm tied to a laurel tree. Where are you?"

"I'm also tied to a tree! It's a cypress."

Peter glanced around and saw the cypress. He noticed there were vines surrounding near the base of the tree in an unusual manner. It moved slightly but didn't snap. He realized that Susan was tied at the other side away from his vision.

"Hang on, I'll try to get myself loose." The vines were too strong for him to loosen by his arms and he searched for anything that he could possibly use to cut them. He found a rough piece of stone and used it to cut through his cords. He struggled with it for several minutes before he finally cut through. When he was loose, he quickly got up and headed towards the cypress tree. What he saw there made his heart jump with panic.

Susan was tied the same way as he was. But it was her appearance that looked alarming. Her dress was torn in several places so much that her arms and a large part of her chest were bare. Everything from her feet to her upper thigh was also exposed. Her hair was in such disarray and was littered with flowers and leaves. She smelled strongly of wine like she bathed in it and there was an ugly bruise on her left arm as if someone had gripped her forcefully there. Peter imagined the worse as he hurriedly cut her bonds. When she was free he pulled her up and quickly held her in a protective hug.

"Are you hurt? Who's done this to you?"

"I-I don't know, Peter," she whimpered with fright, and she began to cry on his shoulder. "I don't remember anything!"

She was shaking with sobs and Peter felt as if he was being stabbed in the chest with her pain. He remembered how badly he had treated her the night before. _This is all my fault! Why did I ever think of seeking out an adventure like this! She was right to keep me in line! The Ceresian may not be as exciting but at least nothing like this had ever happened. If someone had hurt her… _

He could do nothing but just hold her tighter to his bare chest. He winced slightly when she touched a mysterious scratch there.

"You're hurt!" she gasped as she noticed the ugly red marks on his chest. "Oh Peter your face!" Her fingers gently touched his left cheek where he could feel a bruise was. It must look as black and blue as her arm.

She sobbed even harder and Peter boiled with fury at whoever did this to his sister. He was going to kill him.

"Shhh… it's okay," he whispered to her. He was too busy trying to quiet her that he didn't hear the sound of running footsteps from behind him until it was too late. A pair of strong arms had grabbed him from the back.

"Get away from her!" his attacker shouted. But Peter didn't have time to register the voice. His anger fueled by his fear and panic made him react and he blindly punched whoever it was that tried to grab him as hard as he could.

Susan screamed and Peter tried to hold her again to keep her safe but she pulled away from him and gave him an accusatory look. Peter was confused and looked down at the ground at his now moaning attacker. He realized he just made a very big mistake.

"Ed?"

* * *

_A/N: This isn't over yet. Another chapter is coming to wrap everything up. _

_I used the promotional film map of Narnia to chart out the location of the Great River and Dancing Lawn. In the map, the Great River runs through near Dancing Lawn, flows northwards pass the Fords of Beruna and exits to the Eastern Ocean near Cair Paravel._

_Here are more mythology lessons. I was a bit confused earlier regarding Satyrs and Fauns. In the film, these were two beings. Fauns have human-like faces but goat feet, satyrs looked goat-like form head down. But when I checked the background literature, fauns and satyrs are the same. Fauns are Roman versions of satyrs. I decided that for the sake of keeping it simple, I just kept to fauns. _

_I named Peter's unicorn Aglaia. Aglaia is the name of one of the Graces that accompany Apollo, it means splendour. _

_I know I said I don't write incest, but I did come close to it here. I just couldn't resist using the story of Apollo and Daphne in this story because it fitted so well and could be used for a good laugh. If you're familiar with the myth, Daphne is a water nymph who has made a vow never to marry. When Apollo chased her she ran away from him and came upon a river where her father was the god. She asked him to save her from the sun god and so her father turned her into a tree. Any guesses what that tree is? _

_Anyway, the next chapter would restore everything to order, including Peter's and Susan's relationship. Thanks to those who reviewed and read the story._


	3. What Edmund Knows

**Chapter Three**

**What Edmund Knows**

"Owww!" Edmund groaned at the intense pain. He managed to open half an eye and thought he was seeing a pair of stars. But as his vision cleared, he realized the two blue dots were eyes. Susan's eyes. Her face slowly swam fully into his eyesight. The pain suddenly vanished as panic set in. He scampered away from her, terrified of what she might try to do.

"Easy, easy…" soothed Peter's voice and Edmund noticed he was crouching next to his sister with a worried expression. "Sorry Ed, I thought you were someone else trying to attack us."

Edmund eyed them shiftily and maintained his distance. They looked clear-headed at the moment but earlier when he came to check on them, he found them both loose from their bonds and locked in an embrace. The first thing that came to his head was that Peter was still drunk and trying to seduce their sister. He tried to pry Peter off and got knocked for it. "Are you both sober now?" he asked doubtfully.

His siblings looked at each other with puzzled expressions and they seemed to have realized something. They turned identical shades of red. It convinced Edmund they were sober enough if they knew how to blush.

"What happened last night, Edmund?" Peter worriedly asked. "We don't remember. Has something gone terribly wrong?"

Edmund noticed his brother and sister were seriously distraught, but he couldn't really decide how to answer that last question. Yes, something terrible had happened. Many terrible things had happened to him in particular. The horrible images of the night before flashed before his mind and he recoiled at the memories. He was sure to have nightmares about this forever and he didn't want to have to retell them. It was too embarrassing. Maybe it was best that his siblings didn't know if they couldn't remember anything. If they did, Peter and Susan might be so ashamed of what they did they may never look at each other the same way again.

"Ed, please," pleaded Peter. "If something happened… did anyone… did anyone hurt Su last night?" He seemed close to tears with worry and Susan looked so haunted. Edmund realized how frightful the situation looked to his clueless siblings.

Edmund shook his head. "No, she's not hurt. Not really. And neither were you. It's alright. Nothing… bad happened, at least nothing regarding the safety of Narnia if that's what you're thinking."

"But we were tied…" Susan began.

"I was the one that tied you both last night," Edmund admitted.

Peter and Susan gave him a look that meant: "Why?"

"I had to. You were a bit too drunk. I was worried you might… wander off," he said lamely.

"But we have bruises," said Peter. "And Susan… just look at her!"

Edmund knew they were going to ask that. He searched for a good excuse but nothing seems to be coming into his mind at the moment. Peter's punch must have dislodged a part of his brain.

Edmund just shook his head and got up. "It's nothing," he dismissed. "Those were just accidents. Come on, we have to go home before Lucy worries that we're missing. Philip and Aglaia are waiting for us not far from here." He ran on leaving his siblings behind. But it wasn't long before they caught up to him just before he reached Philip in a little distance. Peter pulled roughly at Edmund's shoulder.

"I'm not leaving until I get some answers, Ed!" demanded Peter.

Edmund violently pulled back, half-afraid that Peter was still somehow affected by the wine.

"Look at this," Peter pointed angrily at the bruise on Susan's arm. "Don't tell me this was just an accident!"

"Don't lie to us, Edmund!" Susan warned. "Who did that to Peter?" she indicated the numerous scratches their older brother had on his chest. "Just tell us who! I don't care if it's a nymph or some other creature! You don't need to protect them!"

"He should be punished," added Peter, menacingly. "I'll make sure of that!"

Edmund would have laughed at the utter hilarity of the situation, but at the moment, he was just too tired, too stressed and too angry. After the night of misery they put him through, his siblings had the gall to shout at him.

"Fine! You want to know? You did it yourselves only you were both too drunk to remember! Except that one on Peter's cheek. I did that. Somebody had to knock some sense into him!"

Peter's and Susan's anger immediately abated. "You mean…" began Susan. "These were self-inflicted? We tried to hurt ourselves?"

Edmund was tempted to just tell them everything, but it was a good enough excuse, so he decided to just let them think that. Then he related mostly what happened the night before—Peter's drinking, his dance with the nymphs, the arrival of Bacchus and his mad girls, the flowing of the wine, Susan's wild dancing with the Maenads, up to the part where Bacchus had chosen her to be one of his consorts. Edmund, however, was careful to leave out the most distasteful parts where Peter and Susan tried to attack each other. By the end of his account, his siblings looked ashamed enough that Edmund decided they didn't need to know any more.

"I shouldn't have come," said Susan remorsefully. "I was just so mad at you and Peter for leaving me out. I stole away and followed you. I met some of the water nymphs who had just come from the river on their way to the festival. I gave them a false name and they gave me some wine and I just kept drinking it. I should have stopped then. But then they introduced me to those women with Bacchus and I thought they were a jolly lot. They gave me more wine. It just tasted so good that I couldn't stop…"

"It's both our faults for losing our heads. Some help I was," Peter said with equal regret. "I couldn't help Ed keep you safe from Bacchus. All I did is get drunk and get myself scratched. I'm sorry Ed, for all the trouble…" he paused for a moment then: "Ed, you… you're not going to tell anyone… especially Lucy… about this incident?"

Susan looked up to him hopefully.

Edmund raised an eyebrow at them. "What incident?"

Susan and Peter looked immensely relieved.

"Thank you, Edmund," said Susan gratefully.

Edmund got on Philip. Peter offered to take Susan with him on his unicorn.

"Just promise me one thing," said Edmund. "Never attend another Bacchanalia again unless Aslan himself is with you."

His siblings promised that they wouldn't and they were soon galloping back towards Cair Paravel in silence. Edmund turned his thoughts on the better part of last night's events. He let his mind dwell on the image of a lovely nymph whose smiles made him feel headier than the most potent wine Bacchus could ever conjure. Maybe he would go out riding towards Lantern Waste next week. He rather liked the taste of apples.

* * *

Peter led his unicorn to a quick gallop in silence. Susan rode side saddle in front of him and she hadn't said a word either since they had left Dancing Lawn. She seemed to be deep in thought as he was. Peter figured she was as desperate to remember anything that happened last night as he was. He too was wringing his own brain for any memory, but all he could conjure up in his mind was the image of himself chasing a woman pass the trees and into an open field. It didn't make sense at all, but his curiosity was itching to find out the woman's identity, if she was indeed real. He wasn't certain. It could have been all just a dream.

Susan gave a deep sigh.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

"I just feel so confused. I tried to remember anything but all I get are these feelings that are so… contradictory."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I don't understand it, but I remember at first feeling so alive. Like I could do anything and there was nothing holding me back. It felt… liberating." Peter noticed her eyes shone with wonder and somehow he could relate. He too could recall something like that last night: the wild exhilarating feeling of not caring, of having no responsibilities.

"Like you can do what you wish in the world and not worry of the consequences?" he asked.

"You felt that too?"

Peter nodded. It felt good to be sharing this with someone.

"But then," she continued. "Suddenly I get this feeling of… anger." She paused and shook her head. "No… it's not even anger, it's rage. Did you feel that way?"

"No, I didn't or maybe I don't remember."

Susan sighed again. "It's like I wanted to hurt someone so badly and I don't know why. That's probably why I hurt myself." She stared at her discoloured arm.

Peter stared at the ugly mark in her arm and felt guilty, though he couldn't understand why either. He figured that maybe he was blaming himself for not stopping her from hurting herself the way she did. He promised himself he would never act impulsively again. Boredom was no excuse. Susan may irritate him sometimes but he deeply cared for her and would never let her be hurt.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"What does?"

"Those?" she said pointing to the red welts on his chest.

"Stings a little."

"I'll dress them for you when we get home."

"Thanks." He knew that was an offer of peace. All the troubles they had from last week had been forgiven. He felt there was also something else they were forgiving each other for though he couldn't quite explain what exactly.

Susan leaned her head on his chest but was careful to avoid his scratches. He knew she must have a headache as painful as his but he was willing to be a makeshift pillow. She closed her eyes and was silent for a long time.

"Peter?" she finally said, though she didn't lift her head from its resting place.

"Hmmm?"

"You think maybe we could do something different with the Ceresian Festival next year?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking, maybe we shouldn't be leading all the dances all the time. Maybe we could get some of the other creatures to lead for once. Give them a more active role. Well it does get exhausting when we lead all the time."

Peter laughed. "I thought you enjoyed leading, you seem to be enjoying ordering Lu, Ed and I to do it."

Susan finally lifted her head from his chest and looked at him. "I do not order you!"

Peter raised an eyebrow that indicated she did.

"I don't!" she insisted.

"No, but you nag and it gets to me the same way as ordering me!"

Susan looked a bit guilty. "Alright, maybe a little. I'll try to loosen up."

Peter smiled. "I'm not counting on it." Susan scowled at him and Peter rubbed his nose against the top of her head. "What prompted this change of heart?" he teased against her hair.

"I don't know… perhaps this night… those feelings I had last night, the first one not the anger part. It made me feel I'm missing something. I think I shouldn't take things too seriously… but not going to extreme, of course."

"Yes," Peter agreed. "I think we both should. What do you say after the trade negotiation talks with the Lone Islands ambassadors we take off for a holiday?"

"We just had one for a week during the Ceresian."

"Not that kind of holiday. We still had duties then. I mean a real holiday, with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. No schedules, no obligations, no meetings and no visitors. Just the four of us, even for two days. We can leave Mr. Tumnus, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, and Oreius in charge."

"I think I'd like that. And so would Lu and Ed." Susan smiled wistfully. "But only if there would be no wine either."

Peter couldn't agree more. After last night he would be sticking to water for a very long time.

They had finally reached Cair Paravel and got off their horses with instructions to Aglaia and Philip not to breathe a word about what happened to anyone. The horse and the unicorn then trotted off to the pastures for breakfast. Surprisingly, however, Edmund didn't go to the front gates but walked on stealthily to the rear gate that led near the kitchens.

"Ed, where are you going?" asked Peter.

"Sshhh!" shushed Edmund. "Do you want to wake up everyone?" he hissed. "We're coming up through the back."

"Why?" asked Susan softly as they followed Edmund.

"There are four floors between the front door and our rooms. That's four sets of stairs, 16 corridors and 48 doors. Do you honestly want to walk in there looking half-naked and bruised as we are where any of our subjects and perhaps Lucy can see us?"

Peter never thought of that and realized his brother was right. He was deeply ashamed of what he did last night and he could never live it down if any more of his subjects aside from Philip and his unicorn ever found out about it. Any of his subjects were sure to question them if they saw the bruises they had.

"We need clothes or at least something to cover up, especially the bruises," continued Edmund.

"How?" asked Susan.

"We're stealing from the clothesline," answered Edmund.

"What?" Susan and Peter asked together.

"Got any better ideas?" asked Edmund sarcastically.

They both had to admit they didn't.

The sun was already fully up. Peter estimated it was around nine in the morning. Normally on the day after the Ceresian festival, most of their subjects slept in late. But the dwarfs that did the washing were always up at six, regardless of the date. It was at this time that they just finished hanging the first batch of freshly washed linen. Sure enough when they came upon the back courtyard, there were several sheets and blankets billowing under the sun. Unfortunately, none of them were proper clothes, but those would have to do.

They grabbed three sheets and quickly entered a small side door just as a pair of female dwarfs appeared with a second batch of blankets and spoke in puzzled tones as to why they were missing three pieces of linen they had just hung out to dry.

The side door led to a small dark staircase. It was one of those shortcuts through the palace that was usually used by the Cair Paravel's servants. Of course, most of them were small talking beasts and magical creatures, thus the space was built to their size. It was a rather uncomfortable long climb for the three royals who had to crouch and duck at every turn when the ceiling became too low. Twice, Peter hit his head on a beam, adding additional aches to his already throbbing head. He wanted nothing more but to reach his bed and sleep. He vowed yet again that he would never, ever get drunk in his life.

At last they reached the door that opened to the corridor on the third floor. Only one floor remained, but they had to pass a very long hallway, another flight of steps then a second long hallway to get to their rooms.

"Wrap up," instructed Edmund. They used the sheets to cover themselves. It was easiest for Susan. She turned the blanket she got into a somewhat passable dress around her body. But he and Edmund couldn't do anything with their own sheets but wear it like cloaks over their shoulders. Peter had the additional problem of hiding the welt on his cheek. Edmund didn't have that trouble since Peter hit him where his hair covered the swelling.

"Wear it over your head like a hood," suggested Susan. "That way you could just hide your cheek against the cloth if someone comes by."

Peter felt ridiculous but admitted that she had a point and did as she suggested.

Susan went first and served as a lookout. The hallway was clear and they emerged from their hiding place and made their way slowly. It would have been easier to run but they didn't risk making any noise, especially since they were also passing through some of their courtiers' bedchambers.

_So this is what we are reduced to,_ thought Peter miserably._ Sneaking into our own castle like thieves dressed in bed sheets._

They finally reached the final staircase and they made their way through it uneventfully as they met not a soul. Peter felt very foolish the way he was dressed when he need not have done so. He pulled down his makeshift hood but kept his blanket around his shoulders. Susan too had unwound her improvised dress and wore her blanket around her shoulders like Peter and Edmund.

The fourth floor hallway was also deserted. Of course that was not unusual. This floor was their private section in Cair Paravel. Except for the occasional cleaning staff, only the four monarchs usually came up here. And since it was the day after the Ceresian festival, nobody would be here to clean until tomorrow.

They all began to relax and Peter thought back again to the mysterious woman he remembered chasing the night before.

"Say Ed?" began Peter. "About last night… you wouldn't happen to remember seeing me… with someone…"

"What do you mean?" asked Edmund.

"Well, I do remember something… but I'm not sure… Peter hesitated but then decided to just ask as it was the only way to satisfy his curiosity. "Alright, there's this beautiful nymph, don't laugh Su. But I remember running after her."

Susan broke into a soft giggle. "Are you in love?" she teased.

Edmund coughed slightly, but Peter hardly noticed it. He felt his cheeks redden with a blush.

"It's not like that. I can't even remember her face. I'm just curious that's all… Ed, you didn't happen to see who she was…?"

"You mean that Naiad you danced with?" Edmund asked, his voice sounded a bit hoarse.

"No, not her," said Peter. "I know who she is. She's sweet, but she's not the one. There was someone else." He remembered kissing the Naiad, but somehow she didn't matter much to him as the identity of the other woman that he remembered chasing.

Edmund didn't say anything for a long moment and Peter thought he saw something strange in his brother's eyes that he couldn't place but it was gone before he could observe it further.

"No, sorry, didn't see anyone else," replied Edmund evenly.

Peter felt disappointed.

"Oh don't worry," said Susan as she placed an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you'll meet her again. We can always ask the nymphs. All the nymphs are familiar with each other. Someone's bound to know her."

Edmund was suddenly attacked by a choking fit and he began coughing uncontrollably. Susan patted him in the back. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Nothing," replied Edmund when he recovered. "Just air went down the wrong pipe."

They had finally reached the doors to their own rooms.

"I don't think you should pin your hopes up on finding her, Peter," said Edmund just as Peter opened the door to his room. "Maybe she's not real. Maybe she's just… a part of your imagination."

Peter considered it and thought that perhaps Edmund was right. "Yes, I suppose she is."

He turned to go in but he froze when a voice called:

"So you finally decided to come home."

Peter instinctively clutched at his blanket to cover his chest and faun-skinned covered legs. His eyeballs then turned to his right and saw Lucy standing at the end of the hallway, fully dressed, with her arms crossed over her chest. He didn't dare turn fully towards her, knowing if he did, Lucy would see the bruise on his cheek and he had no explanation for it.

"What do you mean, Lucy?" asked Edmund lamely. Peter saw that he and Susan were also wrapped completely in their bed sheets in order to hide their rather questionable attire underneath.

Lucy rolled her eyes at him. "Oh don't even try lying to me. I was up since dawn and none of you were in your beds. In fact I don't think you were ever there at all the entire night." She approached Susan and plucked a leaf from her older sister's hair and held it out as evidence. Peter knew immediately there was no getting around their youngest sister.

"So just tell me," continued Lucy. "What goes on during the nightly dances with the fauns and nymphs?"

Peter exchanged glances with Edmund and Susan and they reached a silent agreement.

"Oh nothing," said Susan. "It was just dancing, just like the end of the Ceresian. There wasn't anything different."

"Got really boring," added Edmund. Peter nodded in agreement.

Lucy was still eyeing them warily. "Well then maybe I ought to join you next year and see for myself too."

"No!" all three of them cried.

Lucy looked quite taken aback and even more suspicious.

"Oh go if you want," said Edmund nonchalantly. Peter looked at him in alarm. But Edmund appeared as calm as ever. "Just don't ask me to go with you. After a dull night like that, I'm never going back. Utter waste of time, if you ask me."

Peter understood what Edmund was trying to do. He should have known that telling Lucy she shouldn't do something would only serve to encourage her to do the opposite.

Peter pretended to yawn, which turned out not to be fake at all for he was very tired. "I'm not going back there too. It's not so interesting and the dances get tedious after some time."

"Me either," echoed Susan. "The day dances are much more fun. We just ended up falling asleep the whole night and it wasn't very comfortable in the ground. I'd rather just stayed in and slept in my own bed."

"Oh yeah, absolutely horrid sleeping on the ground," said Edmund. "Peter actually tried to lean against a tree bark and got a horrid bruise on the cheek when he nodded off and hit a rough part. Show her, Peter."

Peter revealed his cheek and was glad Edmund could think of an alibi so quickly.

"Looks bad," said Lucy with concern. "That must be some hard tree bark. I'll send one of the dwarfs up for some medicine. But why are you wearing blankets?"

"Oh it got cold," quickly supplied Susan. "We brought them along which was a good thing we did."

"Oh well," said Lucy who looked quite convinced. "I suppose I won't go to one then as well. But I'm glad to hear that you got some sleep at least. We can start off the day earlier. I got a late letter last night from the Lone Islands ambassadors. They're coming back from Archenland to resume the trade negotiations. I was going to put it off for tomorrow, but we might as well receive them now. Go get dressed and I'll meet you in the throne room in half an hour." Lucy turned and skipped downstairs. When her footsteps had gone, Peter turned to his two siblings.

"You think she suspects anything?" he asked.

"No," replied Edmund. "But we better make an appearance at the throne room or she might."

Peter eyed his warm bed longingly and gave a groan. He heard two similar echoes and he knew his siblings were also wishing they had never left their beds in the first place.

**End**

**A/N: **_In the Apollo-Daphne myth, Daphne was changed to a laurel—the same tree that Edmund tied Peter to. Apollo's tree is officially the laurel because of Daphne. Meanwhile, the cypress, where Susan was tied to, is Artemis' tree._

_I was actually deliberating whether to let Susan and Peter know what they did to each other. I initially wrote a part where Edmund tells them, but later changed the story where Edmund just keeps it a secret from then. I thought it would be funnier to have Edmund squirm when Peter mentions he's looking for a mysterious nymph and Susan encourages him to find her. Plus, I thought letting Peter and Susan know about the incident might give them unnecessary emotional baggage that could alter their relationship. _

_Again, thank you to those who read and reviewed, and I'm especially grateful to those who pointed out some mistakes I made and those who gave me a few more insights._


End file.
